Siren's Call
by Vidi.Veni.Vici
Summary: Antonio, had always been tempted by a siren, who he could not seem to block out those tempting songs it sang. His siren, or his treasure was Alfred. A very tempting treasure that had a dark side, that could end anyone.
1. Chapter 1

Well doing a story with another person, was actually enjoyable, this was our first story together. Which at first was a role-play. I edited into a story /mood/ so it flowed better. Anyways this is a really long one-shot so it's broken up into chapters.

This is a: Dark!Spain x Snapped!America

Perfect1Up did: Spain  
>Lustitia did: America<p>

Well I hope you enjoy our joint story together~

* * *

><p>It was a bit chilly outside, the November air was teasing with everyone, playing with them as winter was coming right behind the cold front. The blue skies were covered in dark gray clouds, It was going to rain soon. Which was good, in a way. The rain always made Washington D.C more relaxing. It was a busy day, since the press and news channels flocked a building. It was a world meeting being held in the United States. The press tried to get the members of the meeting to talk, but security guards were keeping them back. A black limo pulled up on the side of the street. The press looked over as the knew who was coming out, they usually never got this close to him, since the security guards had a hidden entrance for him. But this time he was using the front. A lone man came out of the limo, he was wearing a black sleek suit. His wheat color hair, looked pale to his tan complexion. He had brilliant blue eyes, that looked like the ocean, when the sun glittered off of it.<p>

"Mr. Jones! Can we have a minute!"

His name was Alfred Fiacro Jones, or just Alfred. This is what the humans called him, to his friends, he was America. He smiled lightly at the news and press that tried to make him speak. He chuckled lightly and didn't say anything to them, he didn't want to. He took his leave, quickly so he didn't have to listen to the press which bother him so. He sighed as he was in the warm building, he past his friends, and some of his past enemies. Even so, he _prayed_ that this meeting went well. It needed to go well. Alfred walked into the room, as _almost_ everyone was in.

_These types of World meetings were _always_ so busy. People rushing to get there on time, the guards keeping reporters away, last minute notes and presentations being finished. They were incredibly boring, even the weather outside seemed to reflect the meeting._

One man thought to himself silently. He watched as the members slowly filed in, but one man in particular was the subject to a pair of intense jade green eyes. Nothing was more enjoyable than watching the man that was once thought to hold great treasures. One Antonio Fernandez Carriedo still believed those tall tale stories, from sea to shining sea _indeed._

"Buenos días, Alfred."

Antonio greeted the man, taking in his looks, it was intoxicating. Pleased from the sun-kissed complexion, to his ocean colored eyes. The Castilian hoped the American was sitting next to him during the meeting. Alfred who heard the Spanish, he turned around and smiled warmly to one of his friends.

"Good morning as well, Antonio."

His Southern Texan accent was heard, as Antonio's name rolled off his tongue. Alfred studied the man in front of him. He was dark, a bit darker than a caramel color. He had dark chocolate hair, but it fit so lovely to his complexion. Alfred _loved_ Antonio's jade green eyes, those made Alfred interested in him They always seemed to draw the American in so fondly. It reminded him of the deep green forests he use to play in when he was younger. Alfred smiled warmly and decided to go take his seat. He wondered who was going to sit next to him this time. Even though he was the hoist country, _again_, he decided to let everyone get up and give a speech, or an idea.

Antonio smirked evilly and took his seat, right next to Alfred. Everything was going perfect for the Nation of Spain. As the meeting was closer to starting, the young looking Castilian could not help but think of Alfred. He glanced at the young man in question. Antonio had the urge to kiss the man senseless, to plunder his mouth and slam him against the long table. He want to lose himself in those eyes that reminded him of the seas _he_ once controlled. That was until that _wretched_ Englishman took it all away. He _always_ took everything away from him. Maybe, just maybe, it was time for him to take something from the so-called gentleman.

The pieces where in place, the game set, in this elaborate chess match Antonio was moving his pawns to checkmate. He was finally going to take what was meant to be _his_. No one would stop him. He was going to explore _every_ part of the young American. The Spanish man was excited, but he was certainly wasn't going to get ahead of himself. _One step at a time._ He had to carefully plan this out, because one small mistake could end everything. But he would not be defeated, not like the time with his precious Armada.

"Mi amigo, how are you today? Good, I hope, sí?"

Alfred turned to look over to see Antonio who was sitting next to him. This was new to Alfred, he never sat next to him.

"I'm okay, I guess. I worked overtime last night."

Alfred ran his fingers through his pale looking hair. He sighed and looked over as Arthur was starting to lecture him, the norm in every meeting. Alfred let a deep growl rip through his throat as Arthur was pushing his limit with him. He didn't like how this was turning out. He never understood why he was so bitter toward him.

Granted he did _bite_ the hand that feed him, and he did aim the _gun_ at him. But this was so childish, and annoying now. He looked over as the other countries were already fighting. Greece and Turkey would probably start a fist fight soon. Germany was yelling at North Italy, while South Italy was yelling at Germany. This was the _stupid_ normal shit they always did. He didn't like it, and it was getting to the point where he was going to snap, bend and _twist_ in all the wrong ways.

"Alright! All of you _sit_ down and shut the _fuck_ up!"

Alfred yelled as he stood up, slamming his fist on the table. He huffed as everyone got quiet. He knew damn straight that his Texan accent surprised them, because he never let anyone hear it. He only used it when he was very angry, which took a lot nowadays. Alfred was_ pissed_, he never snapped at anyone. He never broke that seal, but now it was breaking.

"It seems we can't have one meeting that's normal! Since you all are in _my_ country, you _will_ listen to my _rules_. Do you understand _me_? If not, I will literally kick your ass out of this room."

It was a perfect opportunity, the one Antonio needed. He knew he needed to show Alfred that he cared about him, that what he said mattered. He was going to be in this more than one way. Gathering his bearings, Antonio moved the first pawn as his plan was in motion. Rising from his seat, the Castilian coughed loudly.

"Mi amigo Alfred is right! Why can we not get along for one meeting? It is simple, no? The sooner we get along, the sooner we can have fun!"

Antonio couldn't keep the smile off his face, a trained response sure. But he was really ecstatic. For once his smile wasn't _faked_ or_ forced_. Only Alfred could do this to the once great empire, terror of the seas. Trying to control his glee, he could not stop himself from glancing at Alfred. How could he not? Soon - if his plan worked of course - he would have a young, bright, handsome, _beautiful_ man in his bed.

The meeting room got dead quiet as Antonio stood up and stuck up for the American, actually agreeing with him. Alfred looked over to Antonio and mouthed a 'thank you' towards him, then looked at everyone else.

"Anyways, we need to focus on other things, than releasing sexual tension and fighting with each other. How are we going to keep the peace we promised everyone when we are in here bitching and fighting with one another."

Alfred's Texan accent came back, it was smooth and deep. He didn't even notice that he switched back. He never used it because the others didn't understand his Southern accent. It was hard for them to understand some of the words. Alfred looked over as someone chuckled. He wasn't surprised as it was Arthur.

"Well my god. What has the world come to, a damn America who is trying to be _smart_ and a stupid _Spanish_ bastard helping him. How more pathetic can you get?"

Arthur's British accent made him seem more proper and elegant, but even so. There was a darker tint to it, which made him sound _almost_ dangerous.

"I swear to god, I am going to come over there and literally beat your face in. You're about to cross the line and try my patience."

Alfred glared, an evil smirk was teasing at the corners of his lips. He didn't mean for his voice to sound darker, it wasn't like him to act like this, even though this was how he normal acted when he was alone. Oh, did it make Antonio want him even more when his voice got like that. Arthur laughed at him, and placed his tea cup down. He looked up at the American and gave him a dark look.

"Do tell me, you illiterate Yankee. How the bloody hell are you going to do that?"

Alfred could feel the tension in the room, he knew that snapping was a bad idea. He bit his lip and glared at Arthur, that glare was literally telling Arthur to _fuck off_. But when Arthur gave him a smug look, he stormed over there and picked Arthur up by the collar with ease. Alfred could snap any minute now, possibly scaring everyone because of it. Since he did hide his _twisted_ and _demented_ self.

"What's wrong Alfred? Are you to stupid to speak, you're nothing but a _whipped_ dog."

Alfred gritted his teeth together and dropped Arthur, he wanted to _smash_ his face in. He wanted to fill his lust for blood and battle again. But he decided against it. He sighed and turned away from Arthur.

"Tch, is that all you got? I thought you would have more in you. But what is a country that is worthless?"

Alfred turned around and tackled Arthur to the floor. He knew someone was going to pull him off. But it didn't stop him from punching Arthur in the face. Over and Over again. He didn't care if Arthur was his ex-brother. But when he threw that _insult_ it was taking to a whole new level of hate.

Antonio watched as Alfred smashed Arthur's face in. He knew that vile, horrible, _disgusting_ man would ruin it. How dare that old pirate say those things. No one should have hear such filth. Arthur - how the name burned in Antonio's mind and mouth - only spoke of pain and anguish. Poison is what came from his words, torture from his voice. He would show the pathetic excuse of a man, why you don't mess with Spain. He may have fallen, but he won't give up. Now was a time he decided to take action. He may not physically be able to do much, but he could help Alfred. Anything to show he supported him, to show how_despicable_ that man was. He moved another pawn on the board of this little play.

"¡Perra!"

Antonio pulled Alfred off the washed up pirate, attacking the man himself. Verbally of course. Yelling all the curses and degrading slurs he could think of, and enjoying the wounds he had received from the - brilliant, lovely, sweet - America.

"Ve... Doitsu! Help!"

North Italy cried, all the yelling and violence was to much for him. Antonio could sympathize with the cowardly Italian. But _Arthur_ - how the name _burned_ - deserved it. Alfred balked, Antonio was the one to stop him from trying to kill Arthur, who laughed at him and wiped the blood from his face. Alfred knew that this pain wouldn't hurt Arthur. He glared at him darkly and closed his fists. He still couldn't believe Antonio pulled him off. He was happy he did, or he probably would of snapped completely. Alfred pushed himself away from Antonio, he fixed his black suit and hair. Alfred looked down at Arthur, pissed.

"I swear to god, you do that _shit_ again. I will not think twice about bombing your damn country."

His voice was stern, he didn't have no emotion in his voice. His pride was hurt, as his country was insulted. He watched as Arthur stood up, and crossed his arms.

"Is that a threat to start war?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, he smirked at the idea of war. He loved the feeling that fighting gave him. War sounded good.

"No! I will turn this into a Nuclear war!" He paused. "You have made me this fucking close to wiping your damn disgusting country off the Earth." Another pause, he heard people mumbling, getting uneasy. "Mark my words. I will do it!"

Alfred's voice was still smooth, but it had a rough edge to it. His glare was icy, his blue eyes seemed to be iced over, it could be mistaken as glaciers at one point. Alfred knew he looked like a monster at this moment. He knew he just _snapped_ and showed what he truly was. Alfred sneered and walked out of the room. He needed to cool off before he actually decided to take out his .44 Magnum and shoot Arthur directly in the head. He was pushed that far.

Alfred sighed as he walked down the hallway, he wasn't calm or relaxed. How could he, since he knew everyone looked down on him. He knew that the little remark he made about a _Nuclear_ war was going to get everyone uneasy.

"God dammit!"

Alfred punched the wall and pulled his fist out of the hole he just made. He couldn't believe how stupid he acted in there.


	2. Chapter 2

_Oh, what a wonderful day it is! A threat of war, _Nuclear war_. Against the disgusting man who ruined me._

Thinking of that made Antonio happy, beyond happy. He ignored everyone else, choosing to follow after Alfred. Now was the time to act. Alfred - how he adored saying his name - was emotionally weak, looking for comfort. Antonio was more than welcome to give that comfort, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen, an empty bed to warm.

"Alfred! Mi amigo! Wait!"

He chased the man, finally getting to him. He saw the hole in the wall. Carefully, - he was dealing with an emotional superpower after all - he walked up to the American. He gently placed a hand on his shoulder, whispering words in calm, deep Spanish. He knew the other man understood him, understood more than people gave him credit for. Alfred looked over his shoulder as Antonio was comforting him. He liked how the Spanish rolled off of Antonio's tongue, smooth and pleasant. He started to become less tense, as he was relaxing his body. Alfred slightly moved away and turned around to face him. He rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed.

"Thanks Antonio."

Alfred's accent wasn't Southern now. He switched it to the Bostonian accent. Alfred moved his hand from behind his neck and moved some of the pale blond bangs from his face. He finally let his arm drop. Alfred adverted his eyes as Antonio was looking at him. He sighed and looked out the window. It was a moment of calm, that washed over him. Like the waves on the beach. That crashed and turned the sand, mixing it up. As it felt like those waves were mixing his emotions up as well. Alfred finally looked back at Antonio and slightly smiled.

"Well I guess the meeting is canceled." He paused. "I guess I should get going, my boss is going to kill me because of this."

Alfred knew his boss was going to be pissed, because of what he said to Arthur. He couldn't help it, when his country was so easily insulted. Even though Alfred totally kicked Arthur's ass for freedom. He still didn't want to start another war. It would literally rip him into two. Not as _bad_ as the Civil war, but still. As Alfred thought about that, he couldn't help but touch his stomach lightly. Remembering the ugly and jagged scar that went across his stomach. Alfred dropped his arm and started to walk off.

"Alfred, wait. How about we go out and have a drink? It seems like you need one, mi amigo! Forget Arthur, forget everything. You need a break. ¿No?"

Antonio ran up and wrapped his arm around Alfred's shoulder. Just thinking about how perfectly his arm seemed to fit the younger golden man. He needed to get Alfred away from everything,_ everyone_. And if there was a God, Antonio was going to make sure Alfred forgot it all. And he was sure that there was a god, he wasn't building the Basílica y Templo Expiatorio de la Sagrada Familia for no reason.

"We can go out and have some fun! And if anyone asks, you can blame it on me!"

Antonio gave Alfred a toothy grin. Alfred deserved smiles, deserved praise and attention. Deserved so much more than he was given. Antonio needed to move the other pawn in place. He was going to make Alfred feel special, appreciated, loved - there is a such a fine line between lust and love, so easy to miss.

The younger male sighed as Antonio said that, he felt really awkward with his arm around his shoulder. He gently removed Antonio's arm from him. He was never the touchy type. He never wanted to get close to anyone, since the last relationship with Arthur. He couldn't _trust_ anyone. Alfred looked looked at Antonio, not breaking the stare. If someone walked by, it would look like they were having a stare off.

"I guess...but I can't stay out to late, I have to work overtime again."

Alfred _hated_ overtime. He was literally running all over the country, fixing the problems his dip shit of a President couldn't keep straight. Alfred finally broke the stare and looked down at the ground thinking. He didn't know what to do with Antonio, who was over here being nice. Alfred could laugh at the word _nice_, it was so disgustingly tossed around, as well as the word trust. He looked over to Antonio, as his eyes were a stormy blue. It was like a hurricane that was happening in Alfred's eyes. He was a bit unsure about how Antonio was acting, it was _odd_.

_Ah, a change in the atmosphere. It was a time to switch the gears here._

Alfred was clearly troubled and uncomfortable. So un-trusting, for good reasons. Anyone would be that way because of Arthur - because everyone had an angle. He was going to try to get what he could from Alfred. Antonio decided to tread cautiously. Americans are very strong - tricky, secretive, unpredictable - when upset and angry.

"I won't keep you too long! We have not been out together in a long time, mi amigo! Come, I know a wonderful place!"

Antonio grabbed Alfred's arm and decided to lead him to the bar. The young Spainard could not keep the smirk off his face. His plan was working, his pawns were in place. Alfred will go drinking with him, leading him to become drunk and spend the night with him. His_ love_ - lust, hate, revenge - might be angry later, but that was in the future. Now is the present, why not live in it. Alfred sighed as he was dragged off, he was a bit annoyed. But he went along with it, even Alfred couldn't deny that drinking sounded really good. He needed to relax a bit, it was hard that he never did. Alfred needed a vacation, and Antonio knew that. Alfred sighed and looked at Antonio.

"Thanks..."

He mumbled quietly and looked away as Antonio looked over to him. Alfred was slightly happy that someone was paying attention to him, as a friend and not being lectured or blamed for everything. Ever since he became a superpower, and the top world power. He was blamed for everything, picked on, insulted, and no one cared to hear what he thought anymore. Even after that, Alfred started to build his _hero_ complex and used it to get attention. Even though it wasn't fun to be fake with himself. It was the only way he felt like he was worth something. He wanted to be worth something, but to everyone, he was nothing but a _worthless_ mistake for a country and nation.

"It's nothing! Being the world power is hard, mi amigo. I remember my days as the strongest around, you know, my armada!"

Antonio smiled, then sighed at the memories. It was nice to talk to someone so amazing. Alfred was different from the others, so full of energy and life. He probably just needed a friend - someone to call for _personal_ reasons. Everyone needed someone to be with, to relax and drink together.

"Taking a break once and a while is good for you! You have been working too hard, relax, tonight you are just Alfred. I won't judge."

_That's it Antonio, show Alfred you won't blame him! Give him the person he needs to talk to, to seek emotional understanding. Because everyone loves a sensitive man who will listen, even other men._

Antonio looked over and smiled as he was thinking to himself, trying to make the mood even brighter.

"Thanks...Antonio, it means a lot. Since no one goes out of their way to hang with a worthless _brat_."

His voice was a bit darker, it sounded like poison. A very dangerous but alluring poison. One that made Antonio want to fill him. Alfred did like what Antonio was doing for him, it was nice to see that someone actually cared for him. It made him feel happy, and slightly hopeful. He looked over to Antonio, as his eyes were a lighter shade of blue now, as if the sea was calm right after the storm. When the sea was always at its brightest moments.

"I never had a break, or a vacation to tell the truth. I've been to busy running around fixing things and trying to set everything right."

Alfred slightly chuckled as he was rambling on to Antonio. He sighed and looked away wondering why his _people_ still believed in him. He was trying so hard, and bless his soul he was. Alfred didn't like the state his country was in. It was never bad, but now his country was in a total shit storm. It was hard trying to help with other countries who he helped and supported then trying to make sure his economy was okay, it was hard trying to juggle.

Antonio's eyes softened as he listened to the younger male. _Poor Alfred_. He needed someone to believe in him. The troubles of a superpower were many. The Castilian could understand, he would be there for the young, _beautiful_ American. Yes, so beautiful and golden, like the gold many searched for in vein. Tempting as a siren's call, and as powerful as a dragon's will to protect it's horde.

"You're not worthless! No friend of mine ever is~"

Antonio, deciding it was safe, tried physical contact again. Hugging Alfred's shoulder, Antonio continued talking in rapid Spanish, soothing the other man of his insecurities. He keep telling him how impressive he was, how hard he tried, how much he actually cared - he longed to speak of the man's looks, these urges to touch, plunder, and _own_ him.

Alfred couldn't help but tremble. He didn't understand this feeling of being comforted, never having experienced it before. He was either pushed aside, or forgotten about. Since everyone dashed his ideas away. Alfred didn't remove Antonio this time, this time he actually cling onto the man, clinging onto his shirt. He was scared to look at him, he kept his eyes adverted to the ground, even though his head hanged a bit. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, they turned into a pale light blue, it could be mistaken that he was blind. Because of the color. He bit his lip trying not to break down, he didn't want to become that _broken_ mess.

"T-thank you...Antonio..."

Even though his voice cracked, his Texan accent came back, he seemed to bring his Texan accent back, when he was emotional weird. He finally used the palm of his hand to wipe the tears, even though when he did. He lifted his glasses up some, pushing them up. He didn't need to break down, not now. Not ever. He didn't want to seem weak to people. That's why he bottled every little thing, but now it felt as if that bottle started to crack and break. Somehow Antonio was breaking the cold icy wall he built up long ago, trying to hid everything. Alfred felt safe from everything, as Antonio spoke to him in Spanish. He loved the language. But only the dialect from Spain. Not the Spanish that was over here in America.

Antonio had to be _very_ careful. If he wasn't then Alfred would see the grin on his face, best to try and hide it for now. Composing himself, the Castilian continued talking in his dialect, not the one Mexico made - he had no idea where the child got it from, honestly. It was the moment of truth, Antonio hugged the weak American. He wanted to make sure he felt comfortable.

"Tonight will be fun! Don't you worry mi amigo. If there is one thing I am good at, it is relaxing and partying."

He wasn't going to call Alfred out on his tears. He'd let the American keep his pride intact. Antonio would wait till he had a few drinks in him. Once he was drunk though, he would open up, most drunks do.

_Maybe some piña coladas or some calimocho, that was popular with the younger generation, right? Did they even serve wine at bars?_

Alfred nodded at the plan and sighed. He didn't understand why he was getting emotional. It wasn't like him, he didn't mean to break down like that. He moved away and blinked as he felt his phone starting to go off. He grabbed it and answered it, he looked over as Antonio was also curious to who it was.

"Hello, this is Alfred?"

Alfred groaned as his boss was yelling over the phone. It was probably loud enough that Antonio could here, who was surprised to see him shocked.

_"God dammit Alfred! Are you trying to start World War 3? You need to learn how to control yourself. We don't need to wage war with _anyone_ right now!"_

"Yes sir, I know...it won't happen again. Yes, I'll get the paperwork done. No I'm not going to skip out of work. Yes I'm free later tonight to work overtime."

Alfred didn't like the work he got, he's voice was slightly strained as the president was cussing at him. Alfred rubbed the back of his head, he knew he was going to get lectured because of what he did earlier. He was perfectly fine with it, even though he was even more annoyed now. His body language showed it. Alfred gasped as Antonio grabbed the phone, and decided to speak on Alfred's behalf.

"Hola! Alfred is busy right now! Besides, you should understand the full situation before blaming Alfred. Arthur was very harsh and insulting toward him."

He turned the phone off before the President could respond. Antonio smiled and grabbed Alfred's arm again, leading him to the bar, he hoped to cheer the American up. The younger male looked over to Antonio, who seemed to be trying to get him relax more. He didn't understand why he was doing this. Alfred grumbled and knew the President was going to have a bitch fit, and probably want to know what happened and what not. Alfred pulled his arm away and walked next to Antonio. He sighed and took his glasses off, and started to clean them, when they were off. His eyes seemed more brilliant, without the glare of the light off the glasses, blocking the color.

"Thanks, I guess a couple of drinks wouldn't be so bad..."

Alfred placed his glasses back on. He didn't want to get drunk, well it took a lot to get him drunk. So he _almost_ never got drunk in his life. He was hoping it would stay like that.


	3. Chapter 3

Antonio walked over to the bar, ordering some drinks and coming back with some piña coladas.

"Here you go! I hope you like it."

Antonio sat down, and hid his smirk with his drink. He had made sure that Alfred's drink was mostly alcohol. A dirty trick, sure, but he _needed_ Alfred drunk. Alfred took the drink that was on the table and looked at it. He sighed and finally took a sip. Alfred looked back at Antonio as he put the drink down, he didn't want to chug the whole thing. Which is what he usually did when he was emotional. Alfred looked away and sighed, he wondered what he was going to do with his overtime tonight.

"So anyways, how is your country holding up?"

His Texan drawl was coming back, which Antonio loved the Southern Accent he had. He looked back at the older man, he was trying to do a small conversation, so it wouldn't seem awkward at the moment. Antonio sighed, happy to finally have Alfred alone. It may have cost a little more, but he made sure any drinks Alfred got would be almost straight alcohol.

"The unemployment rate is still too high. The younger generation is protesting still, but they are surviving."

Sipping on his drink more, the Castitlian tried to ignore the uneasiness that came from thinking of his people, how they asked for jobs, complaining at the people in power. Alfred took another sip, as he was listening to Antonio talk. He glanced over as there was a fight on the other side of the bar. There was no way he was going to stop that.

"I see, that sucks. Our unemployment rate is getting higher, people are losing jobs. And most jobs get cut."

Alfred didn't want to make this awkward, since Antonio decided to take him out. The last person who brought him to the bar was Francis, which didn't end well. Even thinking of the memory made Alfred wince a bit. Antonio looked at the sun-kissed male and nodded, giving his condolences. He watched the American closely, his joy growing with each drink he had. Oh how the Chess game was looking wonderful, as he was getting closer to a check mate.

"I know how you feel mi amigo! The older generation doesn't want to give up their jobs, the younger are desperate to work. Almost fifty percent unemployment rate scares everyone. Still, they hope. And that is all I can ask! The important question is, how are you?"

Alfred looked at Antonio as he asked that question. He took another sip, he didn't know it was straight alcohol since it wasn't strong enough for him. He got drunk from very _strong_ whiskey.

"How am I?"

Alfred paused to think about that, he really didn't know how to answer that one. He was mixed with everything at this moment, which made answering the question a bit hard.

"Well I'm stressed I guess. I've been doing nothing but work, and it's making me stress. Life is just sucking right now."

Alfred sighed and rubbed his temples as he remembered that he needed to fax a lot of documents to the President, he couldn't believe how much work he got. It made him wonder if everyone else's jobs were easier than his.

"How about you, how are you doing?"

"Me? I'm going good! Besides the government and all, the weather is wonderful and the tourist keep coming!"

Smiling brightly, the Spaniard desired to try and changed subjects. Trying to keep the mood bright.

"Any good news happening? I haven't been able to watch a lot of news lately."

Alfred groaned when Antonio asked about news. Nothing was really happening good anymore. He took his glasses off and rubbed his face.

"Nothing is happening right now that's good. So much shit to deal with, the stupid ass President. The drought that's happening in Texas. Even the idiots in the government are trying to spend more, which is going to make the debt bigger. I swear people are stupid these days."

Alfred sighed and thought about the older days. When the people who he was more attached to were actually _smart_. Nowadays everyone was becoming stupid, it made him actually sad that the education in his country was going down as well. Alfred still kept his glasses off, as he was getting a headache.

_Damn, that backfired more than excepted._ Antonio needed a distraction, a diversion. It felt like he had to move a pawn back, as his plan started to move backwards not forwards.

"Are there any new games coming out that look good? I was wanting to try one. Any tips on choosing?"

_Video games were good right?_ He had seen Alfred talk on many occasions to Kiku about them. A safe topic to pick, he hoped. Alfred looked back to his friend. He sighed and thought about that for a moment, since he and Kiku haven't been talking since their fight that happened a couple of days ago.

"Well if you really need tips on choosing, you should see my video game collection at my house. Now new games, I haven't tried any demos yet, been busy. I haven't been talking to Kiku lately as well. I can ask him if you want?"

Alfred didn't want to talk to Kiku around this time, since it was getting closer to _that_ date, which they avoided each other like the plague. Alfred looked over as the bartender was arguing with some drunk ass. He sighed and took another sip of his drink. He didn't know how much time past, but his head wasn't clear anymore, he knew that much.

"No, no, it is fine! I just wanted your opinion. You always seem to know what you're talking about!"

_Shit, another bad topic._ How could he have forgotten such an important fact, everyone knew Alfred and Kiku had a pretty decent fight. Okay, no need to panic. Antonio just need a new conversation to keep Alfred drinking.

"Hmm? Is that karaoke? Want me to sing some songs? I'll take a request~"

Alfred couldn't help but laugh as Antonio started to panic at the subject he brought up. He didn't mind asking Kiku for some ideas. Alfred took another sip, which he took a big one. He could tell he was getting tipsy, which was surprising him as well.

"You _sing_, let's not, you might make someone die."

Alfred chuckled as he was teasing Antonio, he didn't mean to. But this is how he got when he was tipsy, let alone getting drunk was a different matter. He sighed and looked at his cup, thinking for a moment. Antonio also couldn't help it; he had to laugh.

"Oh, mi amigo, I do not think they would mind if I had someone as handsome as you with me~"

That one, slipped out. Still, Alfred was opening up. Antonio was going to test his limits, seeing how far he could tease and flirt with Alfred, testing him. The younger male looked at him and blinked as he said that. Alfred adverted his eyes and sighed. It didn't bother him, it was the alcohol talking, right?

"Pfft, okay Antonio. If you want to go sing, be my guest. Just don't blame me if you end up making someone's ears bleed."

Alfred smirked evilly, he didn't mean to. It was the alcohol that was messing with his body and mind. He sighed and took another sip, finishing up the drink. He wondered if he should get some strong whiskey, or something stronger. He always loved the smell of it, brought back good memories. Antonio chuckled, as his face was hurting; it had been too long since he had smiled this much.

"I'll be back then! Are you sure you don't have a request?"

He stood up, walking toward the stage. The Castilian was going to impress his American, to show him how great he was, how much better he was than Arthur. Alfred watched Antonio go to the stage, he didn't have a request, but he was going to get another drink. Alfred got up and walked over to the bar. He looked at the bartender.

"What is your strongest drink?"

"Our strongest is: Spirytus Stawski, it comes from Poland."

The bartender smiled and handed Alfred the bottle he looked at him and smiled. Alfred sighed and walked back over to his table and sat down, he grumbled and looked over as Antonio was serious about singing.

"God help us all, we might die tonight."

Alfred had to much fun teasing, even though he didn't mean it. He didn't mean a lot of things. The shade of his blue eyes started to dull a bit, and go to a royal navy blue. It was all the alcohol getting to him. He took a sip of his new drink, he knew that this was going to get him drunk.

Antonio on the other hand was pouring his heart out. Singing his best -feeling a slight buzz by this point- Antonio sang in his native tongue. Deep calm Spanish filled the room. He looked at Alfred, staring him in the eyes. The Castilian felt a twinge of sadness - guilt, a small, forgotten part of his brain said - as he noticed the younger man's eyes dulling. How he wanted them to be that vibrant blue again, to see the seas and watch the sky in them. Maybe his song could reach the golden man, reach his heart - to own wonderful heart, that lovely, glorious soul. Alfred blinked and looked away from Antonio. He tapped his fingers and thought for a moment. He slightly twitched as he thought Antonio was teasing, to be a douche. He grumbled and looked over as people started to crowd around the stage. Alfred sighed and took another sip of his drink. The smell of Spirytus Stawski was intoxicating to Alfred, he loved it.

Even though his eyes were a darker blue, it was as if he was drowning in the ocean, going deeper to the depths. Even so, they had a mysterious glint to them, as if the sun was trying to shine its rays down, to the darker depths of the ocean. He sighed and looked back at Antonio and the crowd around the stage. That was natural, since up north not a lot of Spanish speakers were found, and if they were; they had the American dialect to their Spanish. So the crowd was amazed because of the different dialect Antonio had. The Castilian felt disappointed, Alfred wasn't feeling better. If anything, he was getting worse. The chances of getting him in his bed were dwindling before his eyes. The game of chess seemed to turn against Antonio.

With the thought of his treasure leaving him, the young Spaniard's song became depressing. The tone becoming a slow poison, seeping into the ears of it's listeners, bringing their deepest angst feelings to surface. Alfred sighed and listened as the song started to get slower. He sighed and started to relax. He always enjoyed slow and sad songs. It made him think of fond memories. Alfred closed his eyes, just listening to the song, it seemed to brighten his mood a bit. He looked over as the crowd was enjoying the song, even though it was sad. Alfred's eye went to a lighter shade of blue, as his mood was getting a bit better. He looked away and took a sip again, his mind wasn't clear. He was getting drunk, the drink he had was a lot stronger than he excepted. Even so, he wasn't going to let the it go to waste.

The Castilian would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised that Alfred cheered up at the sad song. It was strange, but not unwanted. So, he continued singing the song. One song soon turned into two; his eyes on Alfred the entire time - oh how he would touch, kiss, and _fuck_ the younger man. If only he could trap his little fly in his little web. Alfred was slowly cheering up, slow songs seemed to fit him more, even though he tried to hide it. Alfred sighed as he finished his drink. He rubbed the back of his neck. Knowing he was dizzy. He finally placed his head on the table, trying to keep focus. He groaned and knew that drinking that Polish drink was going to give him a bad, _bad_ hangover.

"Dammit..."

Alfred's voice was slurred, It was mixed with his Southern accent now, he sat back up and grabbed his glasses, or _Texas_ and placed them back on. He didn't know if he was going to get another drink or not. Alfred pushed his cup away and sighed. Antonio seeing this, he finished his second song. Antonio made his way back to Alfred. He wanted to make sure if he was okay - if he was drunk enough. Alfred looked over as Antonio was walking towards the table.

"Mi amigo, are you okay?"

Placing a hand on Alfred's shoulder, the Spaniard wondered if his plan was working. Alfred looked at Antonio in the eyes, who touched his shoulder. He sighed and looked away.

"I guess...I drunk to much it seems. The drink was very strong..."

His words were slurred as he spoke to Antonio. He didn't want to be a bother, to him. Alfred got up slightly, even though he was a bit dizzy he tried his best to stand up without falling over. Antonio sighed and held Alfred up. The American was _clearly_ drunk, slurring his words and unable to stay balanced.

* * *

><p>Spirytus Stawski - It comes from Poland, and it has 96 percent of Alcohol in it. It says that this/ drink is the strongest in the world.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mi amigo, let me take you home. It is the least I could do."

Smirking to himself, the Spaniard started making his way home with his treasure. Alfred sighed as Antonio was helping him, he slightly rested his head against him, he _was_ shit faced. Alfred didn't remember to much when he was drunk, he sighed and continued to walk with Antonio.

"Thanks...I guess I need to take a break, and relax."

Alfred felt the cold breeze of the night, the cold front was still coming in as winter was around the corner. He sighed and felt relaxed, he didn't feel cold, which wasn't surprising since Antonio's body was giving off a lot of heat. Which was comforting really, he didn't like the cold to much. Made him feel alone. Antonio held the young American close, enjoying the feel of his body close to his own - that soft skin and silky hair.

"I can't wait to get home."

Antonio was purring his words. He dropped his voice, making it deep and husky. That Spanish accent coming in full force, he tested how drunk Alfred was. The Castilian groped the blond man, making it seem like accidental touches. Alfred slightly blushed as Antonio touched him, he didn't know what to make of it. Or how to _react_ to it. Alfred thought of a couple things, he was probably drunk, which alcohol makes people do stupid _ass_ shit. Alfred already knew that much.

"A-Antonio...what are you doing?"

Alfred sighed and looked the other way. He tried to relax, and not worry about other things. He needed to relax, let the stress go. But somehow he couldn't; it kept him from snapping at people. Alfred looked at Antonio, but he didn't break eye contact now.

"What are you talking about mi amigo?"

He whispered in Alfred's ear, his voice husky and deep. Those hands of his still exploring the drunk American's body. Antonio touched him, no long hiding it as they had reach _Antonio's_ place. Alfred shivered when Antonio whispered in his ear, he didn't know what was happening, he couldn't tell if this was a dream or reality.

"W-why are you touching me?"

Antonio smiled an ignored Alfred's question as he lead him in the house. Leading the intoxicated man in his room, his bed. Antonio couldn't help but notice how perfect Alfred looked on _his_ bed; how warm he made it feel. He pushed the drunk Alfred on his bed, and crawled over him. Antonio nipped at his ear, whispering passionate sayings in Spanish.

"My dear Alfred, I want to show you how beautiful you are."

Alfred whimpered as Antonio attacked his ear again. He gripped onto Antonio's arm's, digging into his skin with his fingers. Alfred shuddered as he felt Antonio's hot tongue sweep across his neck. He couldn't believe this was happening.

"W-what? What is that suppose to mean!"

Alfred had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, what was it, and why did it bother him so. _This was too easy._ Maybe what they said about blonds was true. He made sure Alfred couldn't see his smirk, his face glowing with victory. He was so close, so close to showing everyone - Arthur - who was better.

"You're so beautiful Alfred, so bright and full of life. I want to so you how important you are."

It wasn't an entire lie. The America was beautiful, very much so. Still this was for himself - he's gone too deep into the rabbit hole; Antonio, how will you get out? Antonio chucked and leaned down. He bit on Alfred's neck causing the younger man to gasp. Alfred shook his head, making Antonio stop with his task.

"No I'm not, I'm not full of life. You can think that, but in reality I'm not bright and full of life. It is only a cover up. Something to fake everyone else in believing. People who are beautiful don't lie. They also are not stain with blood and scars."

The alcohol was having an effect on him. As he told Antonio what he felt. He didn't believe he was beautiful, how could he be?

"I'm nothing close to beauty. I'm a monster, that takes pride in hurting others. I laugh when I see other nations suffer. I might not show it, but that's how I am. I hid what _insanity_ I can hold. Because when it all comes down to it, I'm an ugly monster. One that enjoys the feel of blood on my hands. I'm nothing but a blood lust fool, along with my country."

The truth, when he was drunk, he told nothing but the truth. Alfred _tried_ his best not to get drunk around people. Even though he did around Arthur, he didn't mind. Because Arthur made this monster, when he raised him.

Antonio held Alfred's face still, he smirked evilly. Alfred's world's only spurred him on, he couldn't wait to plunder him. He wanted to be buried in that heat. Antonio kissed Alfred with so much force, causing the younger male to gasp. The Castilian forced his tongue into Alfred's mouth, he wanted to taste everything. Take everything back, this was his. Not _Arthur's_. Alfred slightly moaned and wrapped his arms around the back of his neck. Alfred couldn't help but kiss back with some force. Something about this man made him feel dizzy, a high feeling. Antonio pulled his tongue out, which left a connection of saliva from the kiss. He chuckled and looked at Alfred, he looked so beautiful underneath him, panting like that. It made Antonio want him even more.

"But even monsters are beautiful, mi tesoro. Like the sirens sailors spoke of that lured men with their songs, promising the world, no?"

"Don't start talking about sirens, those _things_ were nothing but legend. Stupid legend that only idiots believed in." When he meant _idiots_, he was talking about Arthur who believed in every little thing he could think of. He didn't like talking about anything to do with the sailors or anything close to the term pirates. He _hated,_ no he despised pirates with every ounce of blood he had. Because of what one pirate did to him, a long time ago. That made Alfred what he is today, so bitter and fake. When his mind brought it up, he pushed Antonio off of him, he didn't like remembering those _horrible_ memories that Arthur placed on him.

"But what are legends without some bit of truth? Stories change over time. They become _twisted_ from being retold over and over again. Is that not true?"

The older man chuckled and pinned Alfred back down, and whispered words of pleasure and want, Spanish, dark and deformed leaving his mouth. He felt special, being able to see this side of the _normally_ happy American. It made him want the young man even more. Antonio continued to fondle him, touching him _everywhere_. Antonio nipped and kissed along his neck and jaw, enjoying the taste of Alfred's skin. His hands played with the buttons of his clothes, slowly stripping the drunk man of his clothes.

Alfred trembled, not in pleasure. He was scared, he kept seeing flashbacks, of what happened on that night. He tried to forgot. He couldn't help it as he started to cry, as he was getting stripped. The scars on his body were there. He had so many, even for a nation this young. He seemed to have scars that an older, _much_ older nation would have. Alfred couldn't decided which was reality. Which one was actually the past or the present. His mind kept replaying everything in his head, like a sick joke. Alfred used his hands to cover his face, as he couldn't take it anymore.

"N-no...not again"

_What... What did he say?_ Antonio froze. His body tense, anger flowing through him.

"Who. Tell me who."

He grabbed Alfred tightly, digging his fingers into the man's shoulders. He prayed to God it wasn't who he thought it was. He _begged_ for it not to be who he thought it was. Alfred shook his head as he didn't say anything. He still covered his face, he didn't want to say his name. He didn't want to repeat his name, the name that made everyone go pale. Britannia was good at making people's lives nightmares. He was good at everything twisted, even scarier than Russia. Alfred didn't want to tell him, but when he felt Antonio's fingers dig into him made him wince.

"I-I don't want to repeat his name..."

He swallowed, as more tears rolled down his face, he couldn't help it if he broke down. He didn't want to break down, not now. So many things hid behind Alfred's smiles, so many twisted and _abused_ things that made him insane.

Red. Everything was red. Spanish fell from his mouth: curses, slurs, nonsensical yelling. He couldn't stop himself. This man - Alfred - was his. His blood boiled in anger and hummed in pleasure. He ripped the rest of his treasure's - Alfred, his name was Alfred - clothes off his body. Such lovely scars he had, maybe he should add his own.

_"Mine."_

Antonio let a dark growl rip from the back of his throat. He moved Alfred's hands away from his face, and kissed Alfred harshly. He would break this defense, he was getting closer to the check-mate. Antonio moved down to Alfred's neck, nipping at his skin. He pinned Alfred's arms down so he couldn't stop him. Antonio didn't hear the yelling and crying. His ears ringed, such a beautiful song he heard - there were sirens nearby. He would take what he always knew was his.

Alfred cried out, as he could feel Antonio's teeth dig a bit deeper. He was scared when Antonio snapped. He didn't know if he could have the strength to stop him. Alfred tried to move his arms, he tried to struggle. Alfred whimpered as he felt Antonio's tongue on his chest, toying with Alfred. The younger male felt weak, _really_ weak. He was scared to stop him, terrified of this man. What was he, anymore? Alfred didn't want to look at him, that same face he made. He reminded him of Britannia, trying to take what belonged to him. Alfred didn't want to belong to anyone. Wasn't he suppose to be free? Wasn't he?

"Please...stop."

A loud slap rang throughout the room. This wasn't a time for talking. He needed to show his little treasure - why can't he remember, wasn't Alfred human - just who was in charge; who he belonged too.

"Mi pequeño tesoro~"

Antonio had no need to properly stretch Alfred out. He was impatient and uncaring at the moment. He smirked and thrust to fingers in, not caring if it hurt. He clawed his fingers inside before pulling them out. He stared at the face of his _special_ treasure made just for him. His pawns were in place, he was ready for this finally jump. This victory he was going to claim for himself. The younger man cried out in pain. Tears rolled down his face, as the pain was building. Antonio was only here for himself. Take what he wanted and left. Alfred tried to push the older man off. He tried to kick him, tried to punch him. Alfred even tried to squirm, tried to roll off. He couldn't move. He was scared. He didn't like this. He didn't want this. He was becoming sober as the alcohol was wearing off.

"You're so beautiful, so open and _trusting_."

"Get off me! I don't want this!"

Antonio grabbed the younger males wrist, his nails digging into the skin as he pinned the boy to the bed. He placed Alfred's hands over his head, as he used his right arm to pin them down. Freeing one of his hands to grab at his treasure's lovely hips, the Spaniard pushes against his treasure's ring of muscles. He chuckled as Alfred was crying, he knew this was to much fun. He thrust inside, shoving and forcing his way to the hilt.

"But you're so beautiful, so much so that I want to see, _feel_, everything."

"I-I don't want this! Leave me alone!"

Alfred couldn't move away under Antonio. He felt sick as the older man was slamming into him, taking his time. Alfred started to cry as the pain made it feel like his skin was ripping. Alfred felt like he was seeing _Britannia_ then _Antonio_. Somehow they looked alike, the same look. The same position. He cried out in pain, as Antonio slammed into him deeper.

"I-I hate you!"

Antonio was angry. The Spanish man didn't appreciate Alfred's words. Grabbing the boy's neck with his free hand, he started to squeeze. Antonio started to thrust even harder; he smirked as Alfred tried to cry out. He let go of Alfred's neck slightly, hand still applying some pressure, letting him breath, but not enough to catch his breath.

"No you don't. You don't hate me, mi tesoro."

Antonio's pace was brutal, aggressive. It wasn't sex, nothing like the act depicted in the movies or novels. Antonio was fucking him, pounding into the sun-kissed man. Antonio smirked as Alfred breathed in sharply. Alfred couldn't believe how much it hurt now, he finally after a lot of trouble got his hands free. He gripped onto Antonio's arm as it tightened around his neck. He dug his nails into Antonio's arm. He hissed out, with a little amount of breath he had. Which made him finally start coughing. His body was trembling. Tears rolling down his face, some drying, face red. His eyes were a deep dull royal blue. Dull and numb was what he was feeling. The older man snapped his hips forward, pissed that Alfred was digging his nails into his arm. Antonio could feel the blood around his cock. Oh that pained face his treasure made was so _beautiful_.

"F-Fuck you!"

"But I'm fucking _you_, mi tesoro."

Alfred cried as Antonio bit his shoulder, ripping the skin and tearing till blood flowed. The Castilian dug his nails into his skin. He was making marks, wanting to _scar_ the boy. Alfred felt his tears roll down his face, his vision was blurry. He dug his nails in deeper. He wanted to make sure it hurt him.

"G-go...to hell!"

"Ahh, you look lovely in your own blood."

Antonio licked the blood from Alfred's lips and smirked as Alfred shuddered. He chuckled and started to leave harsh bites on the American's neck. His hands moved to claw at his chest, sides, stomach, _anything_, especially his thighs and hips. Alfred hissed sharply, his face was twisted in pain.

"Can I leave my own mark, mi tesoro?"

"Even if I said no, you would still do it!"

Alfred bit his lip as the pain started to build again. He tried to get away. But he couldn't. He tried to kick his legs. Right then Alfred got an idea, he finally punched Antonio in the face, he wanted to be free. Not under him. Antonio growled, grabbing Alfred's face, he slammed it into the wall behind him. Alfred started to get a massive headache from that, he had to close his eyes so he could focus back on the older man.

"¡Perra! Stop fighting, I know you want it, to have attention, to be loved. I can love you..."

Alfred was pissed now. If Antonio wanted to be like this, he was going to be a bitch. Alfred used his other hand to punch Antonio in the face, but he got him square in the nose._ Oh it was so fucking on now_. Alfred was beyond pissed.

"Fuck you! You can't love anyone! You're just like Britannia! How can a _piece_ of shit love someone!"

"Britannia... Britannia!"

Furious Spanish echoed through the room. Antonio pounded into Alfred as hard as he could, clawing the younger man's sides repeatedly. He didn't care about anything, only proving he was _stronger_ and _better_ than Britannia.

"Why? Why does he always take everything from me?"

"Because you're weak! You low life piece of shit!"

Alfred bit his lip, he knew what he had to do to get out of this. Thinking fast, Alfred sat up and hit Antonio in the neck, knowing it would make him stop and have to cough. With that he finally pushed him off, and kicked him off the bed. Alfred winced as he looked down, one of his scars were opened back up. He grabbed his side as blood was rolling down his side. Alfred was standing on the other side of the bed. He was weak, his legs hurt. He backed up, he needed to get out of here. He couldn't run. He would of lost his footing if he did. The pain in his lower region was making it hard to even move anymore. He watched as Antonio stood up, coughing and trying to catch his breath. He glared at Alfred, a predatory look in his eyes.

"I'll have you... Your gorgeous eyes, golden skin... Everything..."

Alfred couldn't act fast enough, as he got tackled to the floor. Antonio slammed Alfred, shoulder first, into the floor. A sickening crack was heard. He chuckled as Alfred cried out, he knew his shoulder was broken. Alfred couldn't move his _left_ arm. His shoulder was now broken. He glared at Antonio who was chuckling at him.

"I'm going to kill you! Y-you fucking asshole!"

"Don't say such words, a pretty mouth like this should be used for _other_ things."

Alfred thought for a minute, if he was going to get hurt. Alfred was going to get him where it hurt, his _pride_. Probably was a stupid thing, but Alfred wasn't thinking right at all.

"You'll never be better than Britannia or Arthur! You'll live in his shadow. Because you Antonio! Are nothing but a _worthless_ bitch!"

"Don't you ever mention that man again! He isn't here! He doesn't have _this_!"

Antonio forced Alfred to turn over, and slammed his head to the ground. He pulled Alfred's ass up. Antonio chuckled as he dug his nails into the American's back before pushing himself back inside. He emphasizes his words with a harsh thrust, blood running down Alfred's thighs, his back, his side. There was so much blood, the room reeked of it. The younger man hissed and cried out in pain. He was getting _raped_ again. He felt like he couldn't move. His forehead against the floor, tears started to fall, but he didn't want to give up yet.

"Sorry but you're to late! Because he took me first! You're just having seconds! That's all you be good for!"

"Shut up! He is nothing!"

Antonio growled darkly, he was close now. He was slowly coming undone, being compared to Britannia. With each comment, each word against him, the Castilian made a new wound on Alfred. The younger male hissed in pain, he bit his lip and breathed in sharply.

"I'm just as good, if not better then him!"

"No your nothing! No wonder you lost your Armada!"

Alfred glared as he couldn't do anything. He heard Antonio cussing in Spanish, he bit his lip harder as the thrusts became harder and deeper. It was rough and harsh. He felt as if skin was getting ripped. He was in pain, he couldn't even scream anymore. He was numb.

"You'll never be as good as him! Because he got me first! He probably _raped_ you!"

Oh Alfred went there.

Alfred felt Antonio lean against his back, blood smeared all over Antonio when he did. He yanked pathetically at the wounded man's hair, as tears started to build in his eyes. Alfred glared as his head was being held up.

_Why did I do this? Why am I not special? Why does he haunt me?_

"Mi tesoro... Mi tesoro! Why..."

Antonio couldn't finish his question. It hurt to much. The Spaniard continued halfheartedly to rape Alfred, who didn't say anything. It was a disappointing orgasm, a bitter taste filling his mouth, when he was done.

"Te amo..."

Alfred glared and finally got free from the other man, who hissed as he was pulled out of the American. Alfred turned around and elbowed Antonio in the face, and kicked him to the wall. He smirked as Antonio coughed and gasped for air when he hit the wall hard. Alfred was pissed, we grabbed his clothes and got dressed slowly. He gave Antonio a downgrading glare, which he learned when he was younger.

"Don't you dare say that to me."

"I... Te amo..."

Antonio felt like he was falling. Those words, it hurt to say them, but he wanted Alfred, who didn't want him. He wanted to _own_ the golden man, hear those beautiful screams and cries again. The Castilian wanted Alfred to be _his_ treasure. He looked up as Alfred was glaring at him, he couldn't hear what he was saying. Antonio looked surprised, _scared_, as he heard a phone go off. Antonio knew he was going to crash, but he wanted to take his _siren_ with him. A treasure he refused to let go of.

Alfred smirked evilly when he heard his phone go off. He looked at Antonio who was surprised to hear the phone. He watched as Alfred answered his phone, and gave him that look: 'you can never have me.'

"Oh Hello Arthur. I need you to do something for me."

As Alfred listened to Arthur yell, which he could also hear his boss and Arthur's yelling as well. He smirked and looked at Antonio who was glaring at him. Alfred gave Antonio a cruel smile as he started to tell them _everything._ He twisted everything, made it worse. Antonio's eyes widened. He couldn't believe his eyes, his ears. What Alfred had said, what he told, rang throughout the Spaniard's head. The man didn't understand, his treasure, his siren was weaving so many lies. He was using that song to manipulate those around him. Alfred chuckled and hanged up on them and looked at Antonio.

He was drained, his emotions flowing away from him, a strange numbness taking over. Those words made his mouth dry and his stomach cold. Antonio couldn't dream what his actions had caused.

"Te amo, mi tesoro.. You may run, but you belong to me! You are mine, mi tesoro! Te amo.. Te amo.."

"No, I do not."

He walked over and kicked Antonio in the face. The older man hissed in pain as he felt Alfred's foot on his chest, putting so much pressure. Antonio grabbed Alfred's ankle. Trying to lift it off his chest, but getting no progress. He looked up as Alfred had an evil glint in his eyes.

"I will never belong to you, get that through your thick head."

Alfred finally walked off, leaving Antonio there coughing. He knew what was coming. He was going to enjoy this a little too much. Alfred was blinded by rage and hate, not knowing what he was doing anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

Antonio cleaned his room, trying to get rid of the smell, cleaning the blood from last nights activities. He felt his stomach sink as he had a nasty taste in his mouth. Even though he got the check-mate. It was a bitter victory, because Alfred seemed to win as well.

Antonio walked over as he started to get dressed, something just didn't feel right. He looked over as his phone went off. Antonio grabbed it, his hand was shaking a bit. He answered it and listened. His world shattered.

War. _Fucking_ war.

"W-war?"

Antonio couldn't hear his boss's response. He couldn't hear anything over the ringing in his ears. God, what the_ hell_ did he do. Antonio had ruined himself, again. He clicked the phone off and looked outside.

He felt stupid for being tempted, so stupid for listening to that call. Maybe the stories were true. Sirens can only lead to death after all.

* * *

><p>War. It was everywhere, on the news, papers, internet. It was even in the weather, dark and angry. The same old way, just with different weapons. Other Countries did not understand what happened, until Arthur spread the news around that Antonio<em> raped<em> Alfred. Arthur had a good way of making it sound even worse. He wanted to see the Spanish bastard fall again. It made everything worse as it turned into a one-sided Nuclear war. As American nukes pointed at the country of Spain. Alfred didn't want to let them off, he wouldn't. He had no hate for the _countrymen_ of Spain. He only hated Antonio.

That name made everyone feel sick, it even made the President's blood boil. Even though Alfred wouldn't let the nukes go. The President would. He wanted people to know, not to fuck with him or Alfred. He wanted people to understand that knocking down a superpower and having it build back up twice the size, and tenfold the power.

_Stupid._

Antonio never knew someone could feel this stupid. Sure with the war his unemployment rate was fixed, hell, a lot of things were fixed, but he was losing. Badly. No one supported him, he was running out of supplies, and soon his people would begin to die. He, he couldn't believe it. That bastard was going to make him fall _again_ - he had no one to blame but himself, though he'd never admit it. Not till the very end.

"I can't even surrender can I?"

He watched the skies. Everyone was nowadays. He could feel the fear of being nuked emanating from his people and government. Yet, he strangely anticipated it. No one had such use for a washed up, old pirate. Smiling, for the first time since that night, Antonio decided, maybe, falling wasn't so bad. As the sky turned red and the stars started falling, the young - old, so very old and very tired - Castilian wished Alfred the best and prayed.

* * *

><p>The Aftermath, there was none. Nothing was left. When Alfred walking into the country, he saw rumble, and death. He saw the bodies and the smell of burning, <em>rotting<em> flesh burned his nose. He did this. He looked over as he saw someone on the ground, sitting. He knew it was Antonio, he knew he was still alive. His country wasn't dead, yet, but it was dying and so was he. Alfred walked over. He was in his military suit, it was the same as his normal tan one he wore almost all the time, but it was black, pure black. Like a grim reaper. He didn't even have his favorite coat on, he didn't need it. He stood in front of Antonio and kneel down so he could look at him more. Alfred used his hand to lift Antonio's face. He looked into the dull green eyes, they didn't seem like the jade color anymore. He sighed.

"This was _brought_ upon yourself, Antonio." He paused. "I'm sorry..." Another pause. "I didn't mean to let it go this far." He swallowed. "I hope you can forgive me..." He lightly smiled, as only on tear fell down. "Maybe in a different life, we could be friends..." Alfred leaned in and kissed Antonio softly. Even though he did _abuse_ him. Alfred did love him, but he couldn't stop himself from hurting him. Alfred pulled away, and looked at the older male, who was slowly dying, he could see it in his eyes.

_A different life?_ Chuckling weakly Antonio used what little energy he had left and spoke. Probably for the last time.

"Heh, mi tesoro, you did what you needed. That anger, I let it get the best of me. I'm just an old pirate and I'm so tired now Alfred, so very tired... Will you let me rest with the sea? I always did love it..."

Alfred smiled lightly. He hugged the dying male in his arms. He knew this was his fault. But Antonio didn't blame him, but Alfred _blamed_ himself. He bit his lip, quietly crying.

"Yes, you can rest in the sea, the beloved sea...you love so much."

* * *

><p>This is the end of the first <em>one<em> shot we did.  
>We hope you enjoyed it, as much as we loved typing it. [Sad ending...is sad]<p> 


End file.
